Let the Good Times Roll

I've never been to New Orleans, not for Mardi Gras or for any other thing, but I think it might be something like the Hubba Hubba Revue's Mardi Gras. There was a big brass band and and I couldn't find the King Cake and I had armloads of beads to throw and just as we were lining up to form the parade for the opening number, someone asked me, "Do you want a confetti cannon?"

Do I want a confetti cannon?

I have waited all my life to hear those words. Of course I want a confetti cannon. I only regret that I needed a free hand for bead-throwing, which prevented the kind of two-fisted confetti cannoneering this event clearly called for. Confetti flew and beads flew. The club owner showed me his tits, which were profoundly disappointing, and Sparkly Devil did not, which was unusual. Then people congratulated me and they congratulated J - they brought us drinks while belly dancers wiggled on stage. I cannot reliably tell the difference between Good Belly Dancing and Bad Belly Dancing, but I have generously decided that Sister Kate will be spared when the Great Belly Dancer Apocalypse comes. Then there was singing and voodoo and a terrific Walk of Shame and I might have asked Jim to make November a Very Hubba Bachelor Party, which he seemed to be mildly excited about.

Girl after girl walked up to me and offered to share Obscure Wedding Lore. I feel as if I have been inducted into a secret society. I am deeply intimidated by all this talk of venues and caterers and scheduling. I have discovered that I don't look good in any shade of white and that I hate taffeta. I have discovered that Facebook targets ads at people who have set their status to engaged. So far, Facebook has advised me that I need a $4,500 videographer, that I should be married at a yacht club, and that I need to lose weight to look good in time for the Big Day. Presumably I can pay for all of this with the $5000 a day I will make by posting links to Google.

I stumbled home with a head full of confetti and absinthe mojitos and catering advice. I was asleep before I'd made it all the way through the latest episode of Battlestar Galactica. Life is dizzy and glorious. And the good times - they roll.


Source: lilmissnever.livejournal.com